And ... this is no lie, either ... the daycare lady told Susie that we had the "perfect baby".

Ahem once again.

I mean...yeah sure...WE'RE BIASED ... but no matter what I try to lead you gullible lemmings into believing here ... this kid DOESN'T cry that much, his shit DOESN'T stink, and he ... he... he.... he's obviously perfect based on a professional's opinion now.

...I seriously don't think my chest could swell any bigger when I talk about this kid.

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WE SOLD THE PIECE OF SHIT YESTERDAY!!!

Yes ... my wife's prized 1976 Chevy Impala is now OUT of my driveway after eight years of defacing our home.

Christ .... you have NO IDEA how relieved I am to be rid of that thing.

I drove the car to work yesterday, heart POUNDING because ... well ... everytime I drive that car it feels like it's about to just fall apart.

I got it to work and showed El Dumbass's mom the vehicle.

She gulped.

I stood there and made every excuse in the book for the car. She listened and then called her son, who was ECSTATIC that today was the day he was getting his car.

We drove it over to his place of employment. He saw us pull up in this tank and promptly ran away from the door.

"He's scared," I said. "He's not coming out now."

Keep in mind...this kid agreed to buy the car SIGHT UNSEEN.

He came outside finally and I asked him if it was what he expected.

"No," came his insightful answer.

He got behind the wheel and drove us back to the office.

Even though it was not what he was expecting and was in slightly worse condition than he ever imagined, he went ahead and gave me four one hundred dollar bills anyway and bought the car.

While I filled out the paperwork, he started going into detail about all the things he was going to do to the car.

...Like he was fucking Donald Trump or something...

"I'm going to paint it jet black and cut off the roof and make it a convertible and put in a killer sound system and detail it and put a new engine in it and ...."

Slow down, Pedro, you're about to give yourself a brain hemmorhage. You make minimum wage. You'll be lucky if you can afford gas for this boat.

He was pretty pumped about it though. I felt a little guilty selling it to him, but it IS semi-reliable transportation, it DID only cost him four hundred smackers, so if it lasts longer than sayyyy ... 60 days ... then he got his money's worth out of it, don't ya think??

Is my conscience suffering over this transaction.

Yeah. In a way.

BUT ... HE'S the one who called me four times a day, WANTING that car.

I NEVER called him trying to force it down his throat.

Did I take advantage of his naive personality?

No.

If that was the case, I woulda charged him a thousand bucks.

Anyway ... I'm just glad the heap of rust is out of my driveway, and two cars from the 90s are resting comfortably in its place.

I CAN SLEEP AT NIGHT OVER THIS.

I really can.

I can.

I know I can.

It's just a matter of time.

But I bet I can.

Oh ... who am I kidding?

I feel like shit for this poor kid.

Dammit God!!! Why do You torture me so??

...Freakin' conscience ...

________________________________________

My boy Mattie Gee is leaving my newspaper.

We've worked together off and on for ten years.

He's been unhappy at the newspaper for the last ....oh...two and a half years.

He always stayed there because of our friendship. Which is an admirable thing to do, I guess.

Not that bright. But admirable.

About two months ago, he started doing a little work on the side for another business here in town that was taking really good care of him and hinting that they wanted to hire him away from the paper.

We talked about it and he said the only reason he stayed at the paper was because of me.

I told him that if the shoe was on the other foot, I wouldn't be as loyal to him as he was to me. I told him not to stay at a place where he was miserable for my benefit and to take the other job.

Yesterday, he took it and gave a two week notice.

Well ... he hasn't given his two week notice yet. The boss was too drunk to come in to work yesterday, so Mattie Gee has not TECHNICALLY quit yet.

But it should happen today.

I'll miss the bastard in a way. BUT we still have this hunting magazine that we're both working on together, AND he's trying to pull some strings at his new job to get me hired on over there as well.

Soooo...who knows??

_____________________________________

You know...I like my job. Always have.

I think that's one of the keys to inner peace ... liking your job.

Technically, I'm a "news editor" for a weekly newspaper.

I write a few news stories each week. I write my humor column. I write a Hollywood gossip column that the webmaster didn't toss up last week.

I also put 2/3 of the newspaper together each week, deciding what stories to run, what pictures to run, blah blah blah.

It's a great job. Two days out of the week, I bust my ass. The rest of the week is very leisurely and calm.

Still ... I want out.

I've moved up as far as I'm going to move up.

And ... according to the owner ... I'm making as much money as I ever will under his reign.

I want a job with a future. Room for advancement. I want to be able to afford college for my kid without having to worry where the money will come from.